


Lavender Blue

by flowercrownclem



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Flower Child Luke, Flower Crowns, M/M, and i watched a bunch of baby deer videos and cried, because sometimes you just need something pure in your life, it's cute i promise, litterally just fluff, luke has anxiety so he lives in the forrest, michael think's he's golden, michael's only friend is an old woman, so please take this mashmallow fluff garbage, the people in town gossip about luke, title from the burl ives song but it's also like a nursery rhyme and stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-09 21:29:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7817977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowercrownclem/pseuds/flowercrownclem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke adopts a baby deer and Michael is fascinated by the boy who lives alone in the forest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. White

Luke didn’t like people. People always asked the wrong questions and they made him feel anxious and scrutinized. He preferred the company of plants and animals, who almost never asked any questions at all. People asked him why he liked to read rather than what his favorite books were, while a fern just asked to be watered and a cat to be pet or played with. Luke liked plants and animals because they were simple and he understood them, and they didn’t need to understand him.

Luke didn’t like cities because they were filled with people and buildings and very little else. When his anxiety got nearly unbearable in his second semester of college his parents agreed to let him move away from the city and start taking his classes online. They agreed to keep supporting him as long as he passed every class and promised to try and make some friends in his new environment. They specified that by ‘friends’ they did not mean oak trees and stray dogs.

Either way, Luke felt lighter and happier than he had in years when he stepped into the small cottage he had chosen as his new home. The walls were white, if a bit dusty, and there was plenty of room to start his own garden outside. Actually, he didn’t think he could ever run out of room outside because the cottage was surrounded completely by open forest, except for a small path that lead the quarter mile to the main road in town.

Luke opened every window he could find in the cottage and set about unpacking his things and making the already cozy place more familiar. An entire box was filled only with gardening tools and packets of seeds that he wistfully set beside the back door, looking forward to starting his garden. He spent the entire afternoon putting together shelves and furniture, hanging pictures on the walls and carefully organizing his collections of knickknacks and books.

    By the time he decided to stop for dinner the sun had just begun to set, casting long shadows around the cottage. Luke pulled on a thick white sweater and slipped on a pair of soft brown boots before locking up the front door and making his way down the forest path. He delighted in every bird’s chirp and rustling leaf, the corners of his lips turning up and his eyes sparkling. He whispered a soft “hello” when a small tawny rabbit darted across the path ahead of him. He closed his eyes, breathing in the feeling of life and freedom all around him.

 

Michael hated people. People all acted the same and did the same things and they all pretended to be different. They all had great pretensions of being kind and interesting and carefree but Michael was sure that every person he’d ever met had been so caught up trying to be  _ something _ that none of them would ever be anything. Anything but boring (and often cruel) that is.

Michael hated living in such a small town. In a town like this there was a limited pool of people to choose from and Michel felt that he’d been through every person living there and had yet to find anyone who interested him. Except maybe for Edith who worked at the local drugstore, but he figured that anyone over 65 didn’t really count. Actually he wasn’t sure how old she was because she gave him a different answer every time he asked, but she had to be close to 80. Or at least 57 - he wasn’t good at guessing ages. Either way, it would be sad to count her as his only friend.

“Going black again?” she asked when he set the box of hair dye on the checkout counter.

“Yeah,” he replied, fingering his hair that had been blue a few weeks ago but had turned a pale slightly greenish gray.

“Y’know I’ve only ever dyed my hair once,” she told him.

“Really?” he asked absently, his gaze caught by the golden light filtering through the trees across the street from the store.

“Mhmm,” she nodded. “The first time I noticed my hair was more white than blonde I ran out and bought the first box of dye I saw and did it myself at home. I shoulda checked the box first, though, because the color I got was almost black so I looked like a skunk when it started growing in and nothing would get it out or make it any lighter.”

“I bet it looked great,” Michael grinned, tilting his head when he noticed someone walking on the sidewalk across the street. “Who’s that?”

“Blonde kid?” she asked, craning her neck to try and follow his gaze.

“Yeah,” Michael said, squinting his eyes and trying to remember seeing anyone who looked like that before. Even from a distance Michael could make out soft blonde fringe and a willowy lanky build.

“Must be the new kid Joyce told me about. She said she and Phil saw him moving in earlier today.”

“He lives in town?” Michael asked, stepping closer to the glass doors to follow the boy’s path into town, not wanting to miss the way that the lowering sun illuminated his skin and made him look like something from another world.

“Lives out in the forest, apparently,” Edith tutted. “Poor lamb must be all alone out there.”

“Yeah,” Michael nodded, frowning before turning back to Edith and grabbing the box of hair dye back from the counter. “Can I switch this out for a different color real quick?”

“Sure, dear,” Edith agreed, watching him dash towards the haircare aisle.


	2. Gold

Luke had spent the first week in his new home tirelessly picking weeds around his cottage, raking up leaves and turning over the dirt until he was satisfied enough to plant his seeds. He spent an entire afternoon crouched down to the earth, poking ungloved fingers into the dirt and pouring seeds into the holes before lovingly spreading a blanket of soil back over them. He even made a few trips into town and bought some little potted plants which he dotted around to try and encourage his little seeds to grow.

One day he had spread a blanket out beside his growing garden to eat his lunch and had run back inside for a cup of water. When he stepped back out he saw a young fawn nosing into his radish sandwich and bleating pitifully. Luke walked forward cautiously, trying not to frighten it, and knelt down on the blanket beside it. The deer looked up curiously, stepping towards him on spindly legs and Luke could see it limping badly on one side.

“What happened to your leg, sweet?” he asked softly, letting the deer lick his hand while he examined a cut on her back leg.

Luke looked around for any sign of the deer’s mother and felt along the animal’s spine, noticing the unfed gaunt of her ribs.

“C’mon, let’s get you inside and I’ll bandage up that leg for you, hm?” Luke whispered, bundling her up in his arms and running a hand down her back soothingly when she tensed up. Once they were inside he laid her on an old blanket over his bed and gave her some strawberries and spinach to eat while he rooted through his box of first aid items for a bandage and something to clean her wound with. 

Kneeling down beside the bed, he carefully dabbed a bit on antibacterial cream on her leg and whispered soothing words as he dressed her wound, wrapping a thin white bandage around her delicate leg. Just as he was finishing she shifted to try and stand up. Luke was quick to smooth his hand down her back, gently pushing her back to the blanket.

“You gotta stay down for a while, Buttercup,” he told her sternly, keeping his hand a solid weight to keep her from moving and hurting her leg further. 

The fawn surged forward just far enough bridge the few inches between them and began to lick Luke’s nose, making him drop the stern facade and burst into delighted giggles.

“You like that?” he asked, scratching the top of her head and trying unsuccessfully to escape her affectionate licking. “Buttercup?”

“I guess you’re gonna be staying here with me for a little while, if you don’t mind,” Luke smiled. The fawn bleated cheerfully and nuzzled against his chin, which he figured meant that she didn’t mind at all.

 

“I heard he hasn’t got any family at all - poor dear,” Joyce Peters tutted from the pharmacy counter, where she had been gleefully relaying all of the newly fabricated information she had about ‘that forest boy’ to the local pharmacist.

“Really?” Marcie, the pharmacist, asked. “I thought I’d heard he was hiding out from some crazed uncle or something.”

“Oh, well,” Joyce frowned. “Maybe the uncle’s the only family he has. I wouldn’t be surprised if that uncle’s the reason he’s got no family in the first place, you know?” Joyce raised her painted-on eyebrows pointedly. “I just hope it doesn’t run in the family.”

Michael rolled his eyes, trying to focus on the music magazine in his hands, flipping through the pages to see if any of his favorite bands were featured in that month’s issue.

“Would you look at you two,” he heard Edith call accusingly from her post at the check-out counter, “gossiping like it’s all you know how to do.”

“I do not  _ gossip _ , Edith,” Joyce said coolly, taking her prescription from Marcie and walking to Edith’s station. “Gossip is so  _ tacky _ .”

Michael snorted from where he was listening but covered it with a cough, picking up a new magazine and pretending to read it.

“Whether or not you admit it’s gossip, you shouldn’t be doing it. How would you feel if it was one of  _ your _ boys out there in a new town all alone and everyone in town was talking about  _ him _ like- Oh. Hello, honey.”

Edith cut herself off abruptly when the glass doors of the store slid open, admitting the blonde boy that Michael hadn’t seen since the boy’s first night in town. Michael didn’t know why, really, but he ducked behind a display case of antibacterial soap before he could catch sight of more than messy blonde hair and golden sun-kissed skin.

_ Golden _ , he thought.  _ That’s a nice way to describe him. He’s golden. _

“Do you need help finding anything?” Michael heard Edith ask, but there was no response. Michael assumed that the boy had shook his head when Edith finished ringing up Joyce. Once he heard Joyce leave- not without having to be shooed out the door by Edith- Michael strained his ears and could make out the boy’s footsteps in the next aisle over.  _ Pet supplies _ , Michael knew, after years of hanging out almost exclusively with an employee of the store.

He stayed hidden and listened as the boy walked around the store, making a stop in the first aid aisle before making an odd trip to the baby care aisle before finally meeting Edith at the front.

“Did you find everything you needed?” Edith asked kindly, not commenting on what Michael was sure had to be an odd assortment of items. Again there was no response but Michael assumed the boy had nodded. He heard the rustle of plastic bags and almost missed the soft, deep “Thank you” that the boy said as he left.

Once he heard the doors slide shut again Michael finally stepped out from behind the shelves of soap, glaring at Edith’s knowing grin.

“You wanna know what he bought, don’t you?” she asked, smirking.

“No,” Michael denied, failing to act disinterested.

“Dog bed, a water dish, medical gauze, Neosporin, a baby bottle and a half gallon of goat’s milk,” she listed off.

“What the fuck’s he gonna do with all that?” Michael asked, glancing out the door where the boy had gone.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” she shrugged. “He’s an odd one.”

“Yeah,” Michael nodded, wondering if the boy was as golden as he looked.


	3. Blue

Luke was lying outside in the grass with Buttercup and weaving crowns out of his newly blossoming flowers when he heard his phone ringing from inside the cottage. He told the fawn to stay put and ran inside, a trail of flower petals dancing behind him. He answered the phone just in time and held it to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Luke?” He heard his mother’s voice on the other end, “How are you, honey? How’s your cottage?”

“I’m good, Mom,” he said, leaning against the kitchen counter. “The cottage is coming along nicely. My garden’s finally filling out.”

“That’s nice, honey,” she said, sounding distracted. “And how’s school? Are you studying?”

“Of course I am,” Luke told her.

“I  just want to make sure,” she frowned. “I know sometimes you get distracted with your flowers and I don’t want you using all of your study time to garden.”

“I’m not,” Luke argued. “I always do my studying in the morning, then I garden in the afternoon. I’ve been staying on schedule.”

“Good, good. And the friends? How’s that going?”

“Fine,” he shrugged. “I’ve got some.”

“ _ Human _ friends, Luke?”

“Um,” he said, biting his lip. “I’m working on it. I go into town a lot.”

“Luke,” she sighed. “We had a deal, remember? You need to socialize.”

“I am!” he insisted. “The woman who works at the drugstore is always nice to me! Sometimes when I go in I talk to her and she’s always nice.”

“I’m glad to hear you’re talking to  _ someone _ , honey, but you’ve got to make an effort if you want to-”

“Wait, Mom.” Luke pulled the phone away from his ear, tilting his head towards the open front door where he could hear loud barking getting closer to the cottage.

“I’ve gotta go I’ll talk to you later love you!” he said quickly, setting his phone on the counter and racing outside to where a large St. Bernard was stood barking curiously at a frightened baby deer.

Luke fell to his knees beside the fawn, wrapping his arm around her and holding her to his side. He held out his other hand to the dog, letting the dog smell him before he pet it, quieting the barking to a few insistent ‘ _ boof _ ’s.

“George, you  _ asshole _ !” Luke heard someone shout angrily, making him look up in surprise. “You can’t just run away like- Oh. Um, hi.”

There was a boy with lavender hair and an oversized black sweater standing just behind the dog, matching Luke’s wide-eyed expression perfectly. He knelt down beside the huge animal and placed a firm hand on his collar, trying to pull him back.

“I’m sorry about him,” the boy said, his green eyes worried. “He’s Edith’s and I was walking him for her and he just took off.”

“It’s fine,” Luke said, hiding his face behind Buttercup’s soft ears and looking up shyly at who he was sure was the prettiest boy he’d ever seen.

 

_ Blue _ .

That’s all Michael could think when he was kneeling across from the golden boy. There were flower petals scattered on the boy’s shoulders and tangled in his blonde hair, coming from the woven crown of flowers on his head. The young doe in his arms had the same petals mixing in with the white spots in her coat and Michael had the urge to brush his fingers through the boy’s soft-looking fringe to scatter the petals some more. This close he could see the light tan that was dusted across his nose and cheekbones like freckles, and the dusty pink blush that bloomed over his cheeks, but Michael was focused on the boy’s sleepy-looking wide blue eyes.

“I’m Michael,” he said, holding out his free hand.

“Luke,” the boy replied shyly, taking Michael’s hand just long enough to fully curl his long fingers around Michael’s.

“I like your flowers, Luke,” Michael smiled, flicking his eyes up to the flowers on Luke’s head.

“Thank you,” the boy blushed, looking down self-consciously.

“Did you make that yourself?”

Luke nodded.

“What’s your favorite flower?” Michael asked, shifting to sit cross-legged beside the dog who had already laid down on his side.

“What?” Luke asked, his brow furrowing.

“Um, the flowers,” Michael said, worried he’d asked something wrong. “What’s your favorite kind?”

“I, um, I don’t know,” Luke frowned. “I’ve never really picked one. Maybe daisies? Or lavender. I like poppies and daffodils too. There’s so many different kinds and I think they’re all nice.”

“Sorry,” Michael said. “I guess that wasn’t a very good question.”

“No,” Luke shook his head. “It  _ was  _ a good question. I don’t think anybody’s ever asked me my favorite flower before.”

“They should have,” Michael told him. “I like your flowers.”

“Thank you,” Luke said again. “I like your hair.”

“Thanks,” Michael grinned.

“Can I- I mean, um, sorry. Never mind.”

“What?” When Luke shrugged Michael pressed forward. “What were you gonna ask?”

“Um, I was gonna ask if I could touch it but-”

“Of course you can,” Michael smiled, leaning his head forward to give Luke easier access. The blond boy reached up tentatively, brushing his fingers over Michael’s pale purple fringe and finding it softer than he expected. When the other boy leaned into his touch, Luke brought his other hand up to lightly play with Michael’s hair.

Buttercup, released from under Luke’s arm, placed herself in Michael's lap and began to lick the side of his neck. Luke was startled when Michael suddenly started giggling and pulled back until he saw the fawn in his lap.

“Buttercup,” Luke scolded, trying to reach for her.

“It’s okay,” Michael said, batting Luke’s hands away. “She’s fine. I like her.”

Luke sat back, mesmerized by the way that Michael held her, gently combing his fingers through the fur on her back and scratching at just the right places on her head and the base of her spine.

“Where did you even find a baby deer?” Michael asked when Buttercup was nearly asleep in his lap.

“She kind of found me,” Luke shrugged, twirling a stray daisy between his fingers.

“I can see why she’d come looking,” Michael smiled.

Even Luke’s blush seemed golden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this and to everyone who's commented or left kudos!  
> Btw most of these chapters have been taking place with time in between and I just wanted to make sure that was clear. I tried to use Luke's garden as a way to show time passing (the seeds growing and blooming and whatnot) but I wasn't sure if that just made it seem like his garden grew overnight or something. Like at this point in the story he's been in town for at least a month or so.


	4. Lavender

“Michael,” Luke said, slightly breathlessly, to Buttercup who was laying lazily with her head on Luke’s chest. The pair were spending the afternoon under a shady tree while Luke watched the clouds and the fawn tried to eat the wildflowers that Luke had picked. “That’s a nice name, isn’t it?”

The fawn gave no response, but he hadn't been expecting one.

“He’s nice. I mean, I don’t really know him, but he seems nice. He looks nice, too. He looks like lavender, don’t you think, Buttercup?”

Luke plucked up a stem of lavender and held it up appraisingly, moving his arm when Buttercup tried to steal it as a snack.

“His hair’s the flowers, obviously,” Luke explained. “The stem’s like his eyes. They’re green, did you see? They’re a really pretty green. More like my sprouts right when they grew over the soil. Or chrysanthemum. He’s got pretty skin, too. Is skin pretty? His is. He’s like a peach blossom, all soft and pretty.”

Luke finally drug his eyes away from the flower in his hand and the silly little grin on his face slipped off. Buttercup was staring at him in what would would have been a withering look, had she been human.

“I’m rambling, aren’t I?” Luke asked despondently, petting behind Buttercup’s ears. “I never ramble about people. Usually just about the birds I saw or a nice tree. I’ve never had a ‘human friend’ before. Do you think he’d be a good one? Mom would be happy. I should ask Michael if we’re friends the next time I see him. That way the next time Mom calls I can tell her if I’d made a friend.”

Luke sighed, leaning his head back to continue his cloud watching, trying to ignore the way that every cloud seemed to swirl into a replica of Michael’s smile or Michael’s nose or Michael’s jaw or Michael’s hand or Michael’s kneecap.

 

“Who’re you daydreaming about there, hun?” Edith asked, jarring Michael who was sitting on the check-out conveyer across from hers.

“What?” Michael scoffed. “I’m not daydreaming about anyone.”

“You’ve been staring at that display of denture cream for 15 minutes now,” Edith pointed out, “with a very sappy look on your face. Either you’ve developed some strange feelings about elderly healthcare or you’re in love.”

“ _ Idon’tlovehim _ ,” Michael denied quickly, shrinking in on himself when he saw the triumphant look on Edith’s face. “I mean- I don’t love... Anyone.”

“Is it the forest boy?” she asked gleefully. “I  _ knew _ you two would get along!”

“ _ Shut up _ ,” he whined, rolling to sprawl on his back across the conveyor belt. “I’ve barely even talked to him I’m not fucking in love, okay?”

“When did you two talk?” she demanded. “I thought you only ever came here.”

“When I was walking George the other day,” Michael shrugged. “Your stupid dog ran into the forest after Luke’s deer and then we-”

“His deer?” Edith asked, frowning.

“Oh yeah, Luke has a baby deer. Buttercup.”

“Huh,” Edith shrugged. “Okay, go on.”

“Oh, so we talked for a while but the sun started to go down so I had to leave but I told him I’d come back soon but what if he doesn’t want me going out there? That’s, like, his _ place _ . I don’t want to go invading it or whatever.”

“He talked to you?” Edith asked, her gaze calculating. “Like real, multiple syllables talking? You weren't just talking  _ at _ him?”

“What?” Michael frowned. “No, he talked too. He showed me his garden and told me about all the flowers he’s growing. He’s so cute when he talks about his garden. He gets all- shit, wait. I mean, like, he knows a lot about flowers and shit. It’s just-”

“ _ Michael _ ,” Edith said, throwing a roll of receipt paper that hit him lightly in the leg. “I’ve been trying to get that boy to have a conversation with me since he got here. Almost two months and you know the closest I’ve gotten? Shrugs. Nods. A handful of words. He’s shy, okay. Obviously he likes something about you if he felt comfortable enough to hold a conversation with you, dear. Go visit him. It’d be good for both of you.”

“Okay, fine,” Michael grumbled. “I just gotta get some stuff first.”

 

The next day Luke was working on an assignment on his laptop when there was a knock on his door. He padded over on sock-clad feet and opened the door to see Michael on his front porch, wearing a sage green sweater and carrying a moderately sized bag of apples.

“Hi,” Michael said, hefting the bag up higher on his hip as though carrying a child. “I brought you some apples.”

“Do you want to come in?” Luke asked, stepping aside and nudging Buttercup out of the way with his leg to make room for Michael.

“I guess they’re more for Buttercup,” Michael continued. “I googled what deer eat and it said fruit and nuts but I wasn’t sure if that meant peanuts or, like, acorns but I figured apples were a pretty safe bet. Does she like apples? If not I could bring something else.”

“Thank you,” Luke smiled, taking the heavy bag and setting it on his kitchen counter. “I’ve never given her an apple so I don’t know if she likes them.  _ Do _ you?”

The last part was directed to the fawn who looked at Luke blankly for a moment before returning to her attempts to fit her nose down the top of Michael’s worn black boot, snuffling against his ankle.

“She’s no help,” Luke sighed, making Michael laugh. The blonde pulled an apple from the sack and cut it into thirds, crouching down to offer a piece to Buttercup who took it eagerly, her jaw soon dripping with apple juice. Luke offered another piece to Michael before biting into his own. “I think she likes it.”

“Yeah,” Michael smiled, nibbling at his own slice of apple and looking around the small cottage. Most of it seemed to be in one large room with the little kitchen in one corner and Luke’s bed in the other. The bed was unmade with a light colored floral quilt strewn across it rows of dried and drying flowers strung up on the clean white wall above it. On the end of the bed was Luke’s laptop and Michael looked to Luke in surprise. “You have a laptop?”

“Yes?” Luke said, finishing his apple slice.

“Sorry, I don’t know, I just didn’t picture you with a computer out here.”

“Just because I live in the forest doesn’t mean I don’t use technology,” Luke told him in a teasing tone.

“Of course,” Michael said, blushing. “You’ve just got this whole, like, otherworldly aesthetic going on and that just surprised me. Sorry.”

“‘Otherworldly’?” Luke repeated, a small smile growing on his face.

“Um, yeah,” Michael nodded. “Otherworldly. Like, you seem more like someone out of a story book or something. You don’t seem real.”

“What do you mean?” Luke asked with furrowed brows, trying to decide how to take that.

“I mean, like, you’re different. Which is good - I like different. You seem like you belong out here in the forest with the deer and the flowers and all them. And you’re kind. And soft. There aren’t enough people like that. There aren’t enough people like you.”

“Thank you,” Luke said softly, almost like a question. “I think you’re different too.”

“Thanks,” Michael replied, sending him a soft smile.

“Hey Michael?” Luke asked after a moment of silence.

“Yeah?”

“Are we friends?”

“I think so. Yeah,” Michael nodded. “Do you want to be?”

Luke nodded shyly, his eyes hopeful.

“Good. We’re friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to post this as two separate chapters but they were both pretty short so I just combined them into one longer chapter but I think that works a little better.  
> Thank you for reading! :)


	5. Pink

“Are you doing anything tonight?” Michael asked about a week after he and Luke had officially become friends. It had become a regular occurrence for him to spend his afternoons in the forest with Luke, watching the boy garden and helping out on occasion, letting Luke tell him everything he knew about every blossoming flower and creeping vine. His knowledge often extending to each individual plant, telling Michael anecdotes about the radishes he’d saved from a hungry rabbit (who he’d given some leafy greens and fully grown radishes from his kitchen) and the snapdragons he’d declared dead that had made a miraculous recovery.

“Nope,” Luke said, sitting back on his heels and brushing his dirt-covered hands on his equally dirty knees. “I’m free. Why?”

“There’s this show tonight, the next town over. I was going to go alone but I- I dunno, I thought I’d invite you to come with me. It’s okay if you don’t want to go, I know it’s not really your thing and I’m not sure if you’d really like the music cause it’s kind of loud and you’d probably-”

“Do you like it?” Luke asked.

“Like what?” Michael frowned. 

“The music. Do you like it?”

“Well, yeah. It’s one of my favorite bands,” Michael shrugged.

“Then I want to go,” Luke said matter-of-factly. “If you like it, I like it.”

“But I don’t know if you would,” Michael said again.

“Then I’ll decide if I do,” Luke told him. “I don’t know if I like it or not until I hear it.”

“Okay,” Michael nodded, smiling. “Then we’ll go. I’ll have to get my car though, can I pick you up in like 45 minutes?”

“Sure,” Luke grinned.

 

When Michael knocked on the door for the second time that day he was dressed in skintight black jeans and a ripped denim jacket, his hair a bit messier than usual. When Luke opened the door he was wearing an almost matching pair of jeans with a soft lavender jumper that hung down halfway to his knees. Michael felt like his heart skipped a beat when he looked at him, but frowned when he saw that there wasn’t a flower crown on his head.

“Do I look okay?” Luke asked worriedly.

“Yeah, yeah of course,” Michael told him, his eyes still fixed on Luke’s bare head. “Where’re your flowers though?”

“Oh,” Luke said, brushing his fingers through his hair self-consciously. “I left it off. I don’t think there’s really gonna be many people there wearing flowers in their hair and I didn’t want anyone to look at me funny.”

“You won’t be the only one there,” Michael said firmly.

“Of course I would be,” Luke argued.

“No. You’re not,” Michael told him. “Not if you give me one too.”

“Michael,” Luke started. “You don’t have to-”

“I want to,” Michael shook his head. “I like your flowers. I wanna wear some. Please, would you let me wear one?”

Luke frowned for a moment before leading Michael back inside the cottage, plucking a ring of dried lavender from a hook on his wall and letting Michael take it and set it on his head.

“This is really nice, Luke,” he grinned, leaning down to see it in the small mirror hung beside the sink. “It matches my hair!”

Luke giggled, watching Michael delight in his new headwear. Michael spun around, a soft look on his face, and picked up the slightly wilted wreath of lilacs and pink carnations that Luke had been wearing that afternoon. He stepped forward, gently placing it on the crown of the the blonde boy’s head and brushing his fingers through his fringe.

“There,” Michael said softly. “Much better.”

 

When they walked into the small club there was already a large crowd formed and the band was setting up to play. 

“Where do you want to stand?” Michael asked, leaning in close to Luke’s ear in order to be heard over the hum of the crowd around them.

“I dunno,” Luke shrugged. “Wherever you usually stand.”

Michael took Luke’s hand in his, tugging the younger boy through the crowd and landing just to the side of the center of it. Luke could feel the weight of other people’s eyes on him but he shuffled a bit closer to Michael’s side and tried to ignore it. When the band started to play, Luke’s ears were filled with screeching, distorted guitar and angry wailing vocals. The people around him began to move in closer, shoving each other lightly at first before turning into a swirling mass of bodies, tossing each other from one side to the other to the beat of the song. Luke could feel his heartbeat in his chest, pounding to the same fast beat of the drum and he clenched his eyes tightly closed, holding onto Michael’s arm with both of his.

“Mikey?” he said desperately, trying to be heard over the music. “I don’t like this.”

Immediately Michael was pulling him back through the mass of people, letting Luke press himself against his back with one hand fisting the back of Michael’s jacket and his other gripped tight in Michael’s hand. Michael lead him to an empty corner of the club and turned to Luke, gently holding the side of the other boy’s face in one hand and letting Luke keep hold of his other one.

“Are you okay? Do you want to go?” Michael asked seriously, his eyes scanning over Luke for any sign of injury and his thumb rubbing soothing circles against Luke’s cheek.

“I’m fine,” Luke said softly, Michael having to read his lips to understand what he was saying. “I  just c-couldn’t breathe.”

“Can you breathe okay now? Do you want to go home?”

Luke took a moment and a few deep breaths before he shook his head.

“It’s better back here.”

Michael nodded, not wanting to push Luke but still keeping a careful watch on him.

Away from the crowd and further back from the speakers, Luke could finally hear the music as more than just a wall of sound. He started to tap his fingers against his leg to the beat of the song, a small smile building on his face.

“What do you think now?” Michael asked, his breath tickling Luke’s ear.

“I like it,” Luke smiled, rocking a bit on his feet.

“You can dance if you want,” Michael told him, grinning.

“That’s okay.” Luke blushed as pink as his carnations, stilling his movements. “I don’t like dancing. I always feel like everyone’s looking at me.”

“No one can see us back here, though,” Michael explained. “Not unless they look back, but the band’s up there. No one cares what we do back here.”

“I guess,” Luke shrugged, not fully convinced.

“C’mon,” Michael grinned, taking both of Luke’s hands in his. He started to swing his hips exaggeratedly, moving his arms back and forth with Luke’s and forcing the other boy to copy his movements. Luke kept his arms limp, looking incredulously at Michael who turned their movements into a sloppy pseudo swing dance, bringing Luke close then spinning him. Before long they were both dancing wildly, their faces tipped back and their laughter getting lost in the waves of music flowing through the air like the petals that fell from Luke’s flowers, staining the floor beneath them pink and purple.

As the last chord faded and the club filled with applause, Michael wrapped his arm around Luke’s shoulders, pulling him in close and breathlessly asking if he was ready to go home. When Luke nodded they made their way back to the car, Michael’s arm still around the blonde.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had my first day of classes today so sorry if I start posting a little less regularly. I don't think there's gonna be a ton more chapters but tbh I have no real plan and I've just been writing a chapter a day and posting it. The next chapter is gonna be a continuation of the same night in this chapter though, because it was getting too long and I thought them leaving the club was a good point to split it.  
> Thank you for reading/commenting/leaving kudos! :)


	6. Gray

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts right at the end of the previous one, so they're just leaving the club where the show was at.

Outside the club they found the first storm of the year in full force, wind whipping against their clothes and rain drenching them in just the time it took to dash to Michael’s car, both of their teeth chattering. By the time they made it back to Luke’s cottage the car radio was warning of flash floods and lightning strikes.

“I hope my seedlings are okay,” Luke said, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip. “I’ve got a few buckets I can put over them but I hope it’s not too late.”

“I can help,” Michael told him, parking the car at the front of the cottage. Luke tried to protest but Michael continued. “I don’t think I can really go anywhere in this storm so I may as well help out here.”

Luke conceded, letting Michael follow him around the back to find as many buckets and coverings as they could. Once they were as well supplied as they could be, they began overturning the buckets to cover the youngest plants, Michael taking instruction from Luke. Together they wrapped the bases of the larger plants in old quilts and burlap sacks before spreading a tarp over as many plants as they could.

“I think that’s as much as we can do,” Luke shouted over the storm. “C’mon, we have to get inside or we’ll both get sick.”

Inside, the cottage was giving off a low hum from being rattled by the storm, rain pelting across the roof, but Buttercup was fast asleep in the dog bed Luke had bought her. They both kicked off their boots which gave a wet squelch from getting waterlogged in the rain. Michael’s crown of lavender was safe out in his car, but Luke’s flowers had exploded into a tangle of soggy petals in his hair and stuck to his flushed cheeks.

“Do you want to take a bath?” he asked. “It might help to warm up.”

“I’m okay,” Michael said. “I just need a towel or something to dry off. You should take one, though. You’re shivering.”

Luke hadn’t noticed it, but once Michael pointed it out he found that he couldn’t stop the tremors that wracked through his body.

“Y-yeah, okay,” he nodded shakily. “Just promise not to look.”

When Michael gave him a questioning look he nodded towards the clawfoot porcelain tub in one corner of the room.

“Oh,” Michael said, his eyes widening slightly. “Yeah, I promise.”

“Okay,” Luke agreed, turning the taps so that soon the tub was filled with water and the room began to fill with steam, steadily warming them both up. A distracted Michael blushed and turned around when Luke gave him a pointed look. Luke quickly stripped off his soaking jumper and tried his best not to fall over while peeling his jeans off of his legs. He sighed when he finally sunk into the water, the heat making his fingers and toes string at first. Luke lay there for a few minutes, thinking, before he spoke.

“Hey Mikey?” he called tentatively.

“Yeah?” Michael asked from where he was towel-drying his hair in Luke’s kitchen.

“Sorry about tonight.”

“What do you mean?” Michael frowned, tilting his head towards the bathtub with his eyes still firmly locked on the opposite wall.

“Sorry I messed it up for you.”

“What did you mess up about it?” Michael asked, still trying to angle himself towards Luke without breaking his promise.

“I made you-” Luke broke off, rolling his eyes at Michael’s contorted body. “Michael, just come sit next to the tub.”

“But you said-”

“You can sit against it. Mikey, just come over here,” Luke instructed.

Michael carefully walked over, moving backwards in a slightly clumsy way that made Luke smile, and lowered himself down when he felt the edge of the tub with his leg. He sat with his back against the middle of the tub and hesitantly glanced to his side where he could see Luke’s head and shoulders above the water.

“That’s better,” Luke said, wrapping his arms around his knees and resting his chin on top. “Anyway, sorry I freaked out at the concert and made you stand in the back and sorry you had to stand outside in the rain covering flowers in the middle of the night.”

“Luke,” Michael said sadly. “You didn’t ruin my night. If anything it was way better than it would have been. This has been the best night I’ve had in a long time - maybe ever.”

“But you couldn’t stand where you usually do,” Luke pointed out.

“So?” Michael replied. “I’d rather stand in the back with you than be in the middle with a bunch of sweaty assholes.”

Luke laughed, but he opened his mouth to try and argue further.

“Nope,” Michael said, stopping Luke before he could say anything more. “I swear you didn’t ruin anything, okay?”

“You swear?” Luke asked shyly.

“Pinky swear,” Michael said solemnly, holding up his pinky and linking it tightly with Luke’s. “You should finish your bath before it gets cold. You’re still covered in flower petals.”

Michael stood up, exaggeratedly covering his eyes and feeling his way to Luke’s bed just to make the other boy laugh. When Luke finally got out of the tub and dried off, the water was full of translucent grayish flower petals, waterlogged and suspended in the lukewarm bath. Luke slipped on his pajamas, rubbing a towel over his hair and shivering slightly.

“You can look now,” he said shyly, starting to pull back the sheets at the top of his bed. Michael stood up from where he had been sitting at the foot of it and hovered, unsure of what to do. Luke sat down, slipping his legs under the covers, and patted the space beside him. “C’mon,” he said, his eyes already threatening to close. “It’s late.”

“Okay,” Michael nodded, walking around the bed to join the blonde boy. Luke reached over to his bedside table and switched off the lamp and suddenly they were lying hip to hip in darkness.

“Sorry it’s small,” Luke whispered, trying to make himself smaller to give Michael more room in the twin size bed.

“It’s okay,” Michael replied, just as softly. “It might help if we, uh, if we turn on our sides.”

He nudged Luke’s shoulder until the blonde turned over, then fit himself against his back.

“Is that okay?” Michael asked.

“Um, yeah,” Luke nodded. “But, um, could it be, like, the other way?”

“You wanna be the big spoon?” Michael asked, a hint of teasing to his voice. He could see the shadow of Luke’s shoulders rise in a shrug before the boy nodded. Michael rolled over to lay the other way and felt Luke press against his back, his hands tucked between them and his forehead pressed against the nape of Michael’s neck. “Better?”

Luke hummed an affirmative and Michael could feel it in his chest. In the dim lighting all of the colors drained away and everything turned black and white. They lay there for a minute, just listening to each other breathe, before Luke whispered into Michael’s shirt, his warm breath seeping into Michael’s skin.

“I had to drop out of college.”

“Hm?” Michael tilted his chin back, wanting to hear the other boy.

“I had to drop out of college. I have to take my classes online now cause I couldn’t finish the second semester.”

“What happened?” Michael asked softly, feeling Luke’s fingers tangling in the fabric of his t-shirt.

“There were too many people,” Luke said, rubbing his nose on the ridges of Michael’s collar. “I didn’t like high school because there were always people everywhere and none of them liked me but at least they knew me and I knew them. College was just bigger and I didn’t know anyone and the teachers didn’t even know me because the classes were so big and I felt like no one cared and no matter where I went there were always people  _ looking _ at me and I couldn’t handle it. I just got overwhelmed and I was having multiple panic attacks a day and I couldn’t do it anymore.”

“I never even  _ went _ to college,” Michael said, his tone not quite as light as he tried to make it. He turned onto his back and pulled Luke’s hands onto his stomach, lightly playing with his fingers. “You’re already way ahead of me in that regard.”

“Why didn’t you go?” Luke asked, resting his head on Michael’s shoulder.

“I dunno,” Michael shrugged. “I didn’t want to. It just seemed like something everyone  _ does _ and I didn’t want to go just for that. I wanted to go because I actually had a plan and it was gonna fit in that plan. I just didn’t have a plan - I still don’t.”

“Then what are you gonna do?” Luke asked, sleepily.

“Probably work at the drugstore like Edith until I’m old, then sit around yelling at kids to get off my lawn or something,” Michael grinned. Luke smiled slightly, but his eyes were closed and his breathing was getting deeper. “Go to sleep, Lu. It’s late.”

Luke hummed softly, burying his face in Michael’s neck and fisting the fabric of his t-shirt again. Luke fell asleep quickly, but Michael stayed awake thinking.

“Maybe you’re my plan,” Michael whispered, his lips pressed against Luke’s temple. “Maybe I get a job at the drugstore and you get a job at a flower store - is that a thing? A flower store? I’m sure it is. Anyways, you get a job at one of those, and we could live together out here in your cottage. We’d have to get a bigger bed, but you could grow all the flowers you wanted to and you could adopt all the animals you wanted. We could just live out here together and we wouldn’t have to let any other people out here, except maybe Edith sometimes but she’s nice so you wouldn’t have to worry about her. How does that sound?”

“Nice,” Luke murmured, so softly that Michael almost didn’t hear him. He wasn’t sure if Luke was awake or if he was talking in his sleep, but Michael smiled and brushed his lips over Luke’s forehead fondly.

“Yeah, Lu. It’d be really nice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry that this chapter is so late but I've been super sick the past few days so it took a long time to finish it. I tried to kind of get into Luke's anxiety and stuff in this chapter and the last one but I didn't want to get into it too much because I didn't want it to get very angsty because I want this story to still be almost only fluff. What do you think, did you like that being incorporated into the story or do you want it to stay just fluffiness?  
> Either way, thank you for reading! :)  
> Also I changed the title because I thought this worked better and I think I'm gonna incorporate the song into a later chapter


	7. Green

In the morning they woke up completely tangled together, Luke’s head on Michael’s chest and their legs twined around each other. Michael spent a few minutes basking in the warmth of Luke on top of him before the blonde bolted up, scrambling towards the sunlit window. At first Michael was filled with worry that he’d scared Luke by getting too close too fast, until he saw the excitement in Luke’s eyes.

“Mikey!” he beamed, his nose pressed against the glass. “It rained!”

“Yeah,” Michael smiled, still half-wrapped in the blanket.

“It was the first rain of the year!”

“Yes?” Michael nodded, still not sure why Luke was so excited. Before he could even process it, Luke was whipping off his pajamas and shimmying into a pair of jeans and a thick sweater, nearly toppling over as he shoved his feet into some socks.

“C’mon!” Luke shouted, tossing an extra jumper and a raincoat to Michael, throwing a coat of his own on and waiting impatiently at the door, an eager Buttercup at his feet. Michael chuckled bemusedly, barely getting his arms into the coat before Luke was racing out the door, dragging him along by the hand.

The younger boy tugged eagerly at Michael’s hand, Buttercup dancing beside them on spindly legs. Muddy water splashed around them as they scampered through the flooded forest. The rain had turned the forest floor into a shallow lake that reflected the trees around them, making their surroundings infinite and otherworldly.

“Look at it!” Luke exclaimed as they burst into a grassy clearing where the ground was raised enough not to be completely flooded.

“It’s nice,” Michael laughed, looking more at the boy holding his hand than at the clearing.

“It’s  _ magic _ ,” Luke told him, dropping Michael’s hand spinning towards the center of the field before dropping on his back in the grass, while Buttercup went to lie down under a tree.

“Luke!” Michael chastised, standing over the blonde boy. “You’ll get soaked through and catch cold!”

“Oh,” Luke said softly, his expression wavering. He made to sit up but before he could, Michael had collapsed beside him with a wet squelch.

“We can make some hot chocolate when we get back,” Michael smiled, reaching over to intertwine their fingers again. Luke’s lips stretched into a wide grin and he closed his eyes, tilting his head back to catch the light sprinkles of water that were still misting through the air. They landed on his eyelashes and cheeks, making his skin glisten.

“I love the rain,” he said gleefully, rolling onto his stomach and starfishing across the ground, nuzzling his face into the wet grass. “Look, Mikey! Everything’s so  _ green _ ! And the raindrops make everything look sparkly!”

He cupped a few stems of fresh green grass in his hand, looking at it like it was his own child.

“It looks just like your eyes,” Luke added, glancing up at Michael and grinning. “I love your eyes.”

“Are my eyes all you like about me?” Michael asked, pushing his now damp hair off of his forehead.

“Yep,” Luke laughed. “That’s all.”

Luke held up a blade of grass, trying to compare it to Michael’s eye and poking his eyebrow repeatedly in the process.

“Stop that,” Michael told him playfully, “or I’ll tell Joyce Peters she was right about you.”

“What was Joyce Peters saying about me?” Luke asked, dropping the grass.

“Just the usual,” Michael said, his eyes gleaming. “That you’re a witch.”

“A  _ witch _ ?” Luke repeated incredulously.

“Mhm,” Michael nodded.

“Well,” Luke sighed. “I guess you  _ will _ have to tell her she was right. I knew she’d figure it out eventually.”

“Oh, right,” Michael laughed. “I’ll tell her about all those spells and potions you’ve been brewing out here in the forest. Can boys even  _ be _ witches?”

“Of course they can,” Luke scoffed. “I think witches would be the last people to conform to gender norms.”

“I’ll be sure to let Joyce know the next time I see her,” Michael said, his eyes going soft. “Hey, Lu?”

“Yeah?” Luke asked, his fingers brushing absentmindedly over the grass.

“Can I- You can say no, but um, do you think I could, like, kiss you?”

“ _ Oh _ ,” Luke said, his eyes widening. “Um...”

“That’s okay,” Michael said, looking down to the tiny daisies that were growing in the grass between them. “It’s fine.”

“No,” Luke shook his head. “I just- I mean, you want to?”

“Yeah,” Michael told him. “Of course I do.”

“I, um, yeah. I think that’d be okay,” Luke said, blushing.

“Do you want me to?” Michael asked.

Luke nodded, shyly.

Michael shifted closer until they were laying nose to nose and he could feel Luke’s breath ghosting over his lips. He tilted his head up a few inches to press a soft kiss to Luke’s nose, feeling the skin scrunch up under his lips and he smiled.

“You’ve got a cute nose,” he whispered.

“Thanks,” Luke whispered back, his voice shaky.

Michael brought his fingers up and lightly touched Luke’s cheek, apologizing when the other boy flinched at the cold touch on his warm skin. He leaned forward again and brushed his lips softly against Luke’s, catching the gentle exhale the blonde boy let out at the contact. When they pulled back just a few inches he could see Luke’s eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings against his cheeks and he leaned up to press a kiss high on each of Luke’s cheekbones just to feel the flutter against his lips.

“Okay?” he asked softly, and Luke nodded without opening his eyes. When Michael kissed him again, deeper this time, he could taste the raindrops fresh on Luke’s lips.

When Luke finally opened his eyes all he could see was green.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry that this one's so late but I'm just now getting over my cold because I've got the constitution of a baby rabbit and I get sick really easily. Anyway, thank you so much for reading and commenting and whatnot! I think the next chapter might be the last one because I'm not really sure where else to go with this story. I'll probably have an epilogue after that though :)  
> Is anyone else going to the Chula Vista show next week? I'm so excited!


	8. Yellow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place about a month or two after the last one! It's mentioned in the chapter that it's now winter but I just wanted to make sure that got across :)

“So,” Michael said, leaning his head back against Luke’s bed, where the other boy was sprawled out on his stomach studying. Michael was sat on the floor, absentmindedly scratching Buttercup on the side of her neck. “You know Edith, from the store?”

“Mhm,” Luke hummed, not lifting his eyes from the textbook in front of him.

“Every Thursday she goes to bingo games at the retirement place in town, and every year they do this winter dance for the seniors and she always brings me as her date.”

“That’s nice,” Luke smiled, turning his page.

“Yeah, it’s fun,” Michael nodded. “And, uh, she asked me to bring you with me this year.”

“Oh.” Luke looked up. “Is that, like, okay?”

“Yeah, she just, um, wants to meet you, for real. Like, not in the checkout line.”

“Why do you sound nervous?” Luke asked, sitting up.

“I dunno,” Michael shrugged. “She was just, like, my only friend in town before I met you and I’ve never introduced her to, like, a boyfriend or whatever.”

“I’ve never been introduced as one,” Luke pointed out.

“True,” Michael said. “I guess it’ll be a first for both of us. So, would you do me and Edith the honor of being our date for the evening?”

“Hmm,” Luke pretended to think it over. “I think I can do that - for Edith of course.”

“Of course,” Michael agreed, laughing.

 

That evening Luke and Michael stepped hand-in-hand into the retirement home dressed in their finest, which meant a pale blue sweater for Luke and slightly less-holey jeans for Michael. The room, which must have been a dining hall usually, was strung up with fairy lights that gave the whole place a warm yellow glow. Edith found them quickly and pulled them each into a hug, which startled Luke for a moment but he found that he liked the embrace.

“I’m glad you could make it,” she told him with a smile.

“Thank you for inviting me,” he replied shyly.

“No problem, dear. I like those,” she said, gesturing to the crown of winter jasmine woven around his head.

“Thank you,” he blushed.

She wrapped her hand around his elbow, pulling him with her to sit at one of the tables set up. “I wanted to meet the boy Mikey’s been spending all his time with. You know I’ve barely seen him since you moved to town?”

“Sorry about that,” Michael said, pulling up a chair on Luke’s other side. “I’ve been meaning to stop in more.”

“Oh don’t apologize for that,” she waved him off. “To tell you the truth I was about to put an ad is the yellow pages to try and find someone his own age for him.”

Luke hid an amused giggle behind the sleeve of his sweater and Michael groaned.

“I don’t think you’d have much luck finding anyone under forty through the yellow pages.”

“Well, then it’s extra lucky that Luke came here when he did,” she shrugged.

“Yeah,” Michael grinned, taking Luke’s hand in his. “Very lucky.”

They spent the evening making bits of small talk with Edith’s friends, then listening to Edith complain about each person colorfully as soon as they were out of earshot, and sipping sugary red punch from plastic cups shaped like champagne glasses. Luke was worried that he’d be stuck trying to make conversation with strangers all night but Michael was always at his side to fill in when he went quiet and to give excuses when he needed to get away for a few minutes. Michael’s favorite excuse for the night was that Luke just loved to dance and that Michael would feel bad not to indulge him as much as possible. Luke was sure they’d spent half the night swaying on the dancefloor to the old music pouring through the room. Michael would croon exaggeratedly in his ear along with Frank Sinatra, or pull him into a clumsy swing dance to Glenn Miller.

When the sun had long set and the punch bowl was dry, Michael drove Luke back to his cottage. Luke flicked on the lights as he walked inside and frowned when he saw Buttercup with her nose against the backdoor.

“Do you need to go out?” he asked, walking further in and letting Michael close the door behind them. He came to stand behind Buttercup and gasped when he looked out the window set in the door. In the dark of the forest he could just make out the russet doe standing at the tree line and watching them with shining black eyes. “Mikey, look!”

Michael hooked his chin over Luke’s shoulder and peered out into the shadows.

“Is that her mom?”

“Must be,” Luke nodded, crouching down to kneel beside the growing fawn. “Is that your mother, Buttercup?”

The deer licked a long stripe up his neck, which he took as a yes.

“Well, your leg’s all healed up now,” he told her, tugging gently on one of her ears. “I think you’ll do just fine out there now, especially if you’re with her.”

“You’re letting her go?” Michael asked, frowning.

“Of course,” Luke nodded. “I can’t keep her here forever. She belongs out there, with her mom.”

“Won’t you miss her?” Michael asked, crouching down beside them.

“Like crazy,” Luke smiled fondly. “But maybe she’ll miss me too and she’ll come visit us sometime. Would you do that, Buttercup?”

The fawn pushed her nose against his neck and he giggled, watching her tail twitch happily. He stretched up to open the door and gave her a little nudge until she slipped through the opening, tottering through his little garden and joining the doe at the treeline.

“Bye, Buttercup,” Luke whispered, blowing a kiss after the fawn.

Later, when they were curled up in Luke’s bed in the dark and Luke’s face was buried between Michael’s neck and shoulder, Michael could feel the tears that welled up against his skin.

“Miss her already?” he whispered, and Luke nodded.

“Did you mean it?” Luke whispered back wetly.

“Mean what?” Michael asked, carding his fingers through Luke’s hair and finding a few flower petals still tangled in the blonde strands.

“What you said - the first night you slept here. When you were talking about the future.”

“Oh, yeah,” Michael nodded, his fingers tightening in Luke’s hair. “Of course I meant it. I wasn’t sure if you were asleep or not, but I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

“You’d really wanna live out here with me?” Luke asked softly.

“I’d like nothing more,” Michael replied.

“And we could adopt all the animals in the forest if I wanted?”

“If you wanted, we could adopt all the animals in the world.”

“You wouldn’t get mad if I stole your shirts and gardened in them and they got all muddy?”

“Nah,” Michael grinned. “You’d look cute in them.”

“What if I borrowed one of your books and when I gave it back there were markings next to all the lines I liked? I do that, you know.”

“I’d like it even more than before,” Michael promised. “Those would be my favorite lines.”

“When I can’t sleep I bake in the middle of the night and, um, I burn a lot of candles and, um...”

“Are you trying to talk me out of wanting to live with you?” Michael asked. “Because if you don’t want me to, that’s totally okay.”

“No, I do!” Luke insisted. “I just don’t want you moving all the way out in the forest and realizing you hate it and then, like, leaving...”

“I’m not gonna leave, Luke,” Michael said, brushing his thumb gently over Luke’s cheek. “I like it out here. I mean, I think I’d like it anywhere, as long as I’m with you. It’s like how Buttercup belongs out there with her mom. You belong here, in the forest with the animals and your flowers, and I belong here, with  _ you _ . I love you, Lu.”

“You do?” Luke asked.

“Yeah,” Michael nodded.

“I love you too,” Luke smiled, grinning widely when Michael pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose.

“I love you so much,” Michael whispered, wrapping his arms tightly around the other boy and pulling him even closer against his chest. “Now let’s get some sleep, baby.”

Luke nodded, closing his eyes and listening to the low rumble of Michael’s hum that purred through his chest.

“What is that?” Luke asked, trying to recognize the tune.

“S’one of the songs they played at the party,” Michael told him. “It was on one of Edith’s old records she gave me.”

“How does it go?” Luke asked sleepily.

Michael nuzzled down to sing softly in Luke’s ear as the other boy drifted further towards sleep.

“ _ Lavender blue, dilly dilly _

_     Lavender green _

_     If I were king, dilly dilly _

_     You’d be my queen _

 

_     Lavender blue, dilly, dilly _

_     Lavender green _

_     When I am king, dilly, dilly _

_     You'll be my queen” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this was the last real chapter! I think I'll write a little epilogue to follow it but I'm not sure when that'll be up. I made a kind of shitty moodboard for this fic that you can check out on my tumblr if you want:  
> http://flower-crown-clem.tumblr.com/post/150013637127/heres-the-little-moodboard-i-made-for-my-fic  
> Also the lyrics at the end aren't exact but I wanted them to be more of like mostly-remembered lyrics, you know? Anyway, thank you so so much for reading this and commenting and all that! You're all super nice and sweet and I love you all :)  
> Thank you! <3 <3


	9. Epilogue

“Mikey,” Luke said insistently, shaking his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Wake up!”

Michael huffed, still half asleep and trying to borrow further down into their double bed.

“ _ Mikey _ !” Luke repeated. “C’mon! Wake up!”

Michael blinked his eyes open, letting a wildly grinning Luke drag him out of bed and through the back door to stand in the middle of his garden.

“Look at it all,” Luke told him, surveying the garden proudly.

“It looks the same as yesterday,” Michael teased, rubbing his eyes.

“But it’s different!” Luke insisted. “It’s all different. It’s  _ Spring! _ ”

“Of course,” Michael nodded, wrapping an arm around Luke’s waist and pinching lightly at the skin on his hip. “The first day of spring. Sorry, I forgot the date.”

“That’s okay,” Luke told him, still grinning. “I  _ love _ spring. I think it’s my favorite season.”

“You said that last year, and the year before,” Michael laughed, kissing his cheek, “About every season.”

“Yeah,” Luke blushed. “But I think spring’s my  _ most _ favorite season.”

Michael pressed another kiss against the side of Luke’s head and suggested they eat breakfast as a picnic. They laid out a blanket on the dewy grass and ate toast and jam with increasingly sticky fingers, with Luke stretching out his hands to give little good-morning kisses to the nearest flowers with his fingertips.

“How’s Edith doing?” Luke asked, stretched across the blanket on his stomach and trying to soak in as much of the warm morning sunlight as he could. He hadn’t seen the older woman for a few days but Michael had stopped at the drugstore just the night before.

“She’s good,” Michael told him. “She said to thank you on behalf of Joyce Peters for special ordering that lis- lisanithah-”

“Lisianthus,” Luke supplied.

“Yeah,” Michael smiled. “The lisianthus bush. She said she figured Joyce hadn’t thought to thank you for it.”

“She didn’t,” Luke confirmed, but he shrugged it off. “It wasn’t a big deal though. I just had to add it to the order.”

When Luke had finished all of his online classes he’d gotten a job at the local orchard supply store until he could find a better use for his botany degree. He ended up liking the job more than he thought he would though, and had become good friends with a lot of Edith’s friends who took up gardening in their retirement. It also helped that Michael was working just across the parking lot at a music store. When Luke got overwhelmed with a line of people all asking him what kind of fertilizer they should buy, or when Michael couldn’t stand one more person asking him the difference between a guitar and bass and a ukulele, they had each other to escape to - even just for a lunch break. Michael had started teaching himself guitar when he first moved into Luke’s cottage, and with a good deal of encouragement from the younger boy had found that he had a knack for it. He spent most nights with an acoustic strung across his chest, serenading Luke with improvised love songs about a certain boy with flowers in his hair.

“She still should have thanked you,” Michael said pointedly. “Now how about you tell me why you love spring so much.”

“Mikey, you already know that,” Luke giggled.

“Yeah, but I like hearing you talk about things you like,” Michael told him.

“Um, okay. I like that the rain storms turn into these nice little showers that just make everything feel fresh instead of soggy. I like that all the baby animals are safe to come out in the open for the first time, and I like seeing them stumbling around in the forest. I like how happy my flowers get and I like seeing how much they grow in the springtime,” Luke said, smiling.

“Pretty soon the whole garden’ll be in bloom,” Michael mused, and Luke nodded. “Speaking of, did you have another growth spurt?”

“Yeah,” Luke mumbled, his smile turning into a grimace. Luke hadn’t stopped growing the whole time Michael had known him and the blonde was now tall enough that Michael had to stretch up on his toes a bit to kiss Luke’s nose.

“Why do you look so glum?” Michael asked, cuddling Luke against his chest.

“I dunno,” Luke shrugged. “I just keep growing. I’m gonna have to get new sweaters soon cause all of mine are getting too small.”

“I think you mean they’re starting to fit properly,” Michael teased, making Luke’s lips quirk up.

“You know what I mean,” he said into the fabric of Michael’s shirt.

“I do,” Michael nodded. “But I like it. You’re my little flower and it’s like you finally got all the water you needed.”

“What?” Luke asked, furrowing his brow. “What does that mean?”

“It means you’re my little flower and I love you and I’m proud of every single inch of you,” Michael said, grinning.

“You’re so  _ weird _ ,” Luke huffed, but he was smiling too.

“And you’re my little bean sprout. Gonna take such good care of you that you grow all the way up to the clouds.”

“Shut up,” Luke groaned. “You’re so-”

“ _ Shhh _ , Luke,” Michael whispered, his eyes widening and his fingers tapping against Luke’s elbow frantically.

“What?” Luke asked, sitting up. Michael’s eyes were locked on the treeline behind him and his face was lit up with a dazzling smile. Luke turned his head to follow Michael’s gaze and found himself matching Michael’s expression.

From between the trees came a doe, trailed by two young fawns.

“Holy shit,” Michael whispered.

“Mikey don’t curse in front of her,” Luke hissed, not tearing his eyes away from the three deers before them. “You’ll corrupt her babies.”

“But,” Michael started, grasping Luke’s fingers in his own. “That’s her, right? And those are her babies?”

“Yeah, it’s her,” Luke nodded, squeezing Michael’s hand. “Could you get some apples from inside, please?”

Michael nodded and hurried inside, cutting a few apples into smaller hunks. When he came back out he saw a fully grown Buttercup laying peacefully beside their picnic blanket while the two young fawns climbed over Luke and licked playfully at his ears, knees and elbows. The blonde was laughing, his head tilted back and his eyes squeezed shut, unable to contain his joy. Michael stood in the doorway of their home, just watching, in awe of the other boy. He couldn’t believe that Luke was his and that he belonged to this radiant little sunbeam, flower petals ensnared by the curls of his hair and his gold speckled cheeks dimpling in delight. He waited until Luke opened his eyes and noticed him watching before he came to join them.

“Here you go, flower,” he said, placing the cut up apples in Luke’s cupped hands.

“Thanks, Mikey,” Luke said, his smile soft and fond.

Michael sat down beside him with one leg hooked behind the other boy, and the fawns began to circle him curiously before giving him the same treatment they’d given Luke. Michael lay back on the blanket and let the baby deer walk across his stomach and huff little breaths of warm air against his neck.

Luke sat back, watching the way Michael’s pretty green eyes glimmered in the sunlight and how his pale skin got flushed a light peachy rose color when he laughed. As the sound of Michael’s laughter rang through the forest Luke remembered the first time Michael brought him into town for a date and Joyce Peters was sat at the next table over sending them pointed looks and whispering behind her hand to anyone who would listen. Michael had very loudly asked her to “kindly fuck off, and at least wait until you’re more than five feet away from my boyfriend to start spreading your theories about his life.” Luke had sat there, his mouth gaping and his cheeks flaming, shocked that Michael had been so bold. When he saw Joyce Peters gasping to try and find some kind of retort and settling for an icy glare and a quick retreat, Luke couldn’t help the bark of laughter he let out, shaking his head disbelievingly at Michael.

“I can’t believe you did that,” he’d said, still giggling lightly behind his fingers.

“She was being rude,” Michael shrugged. “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

Luke loved that side of Michael, the one that reared up when he didn’t like the way people looked at them, or when he didn’t like the way people looked at each other. Michael spoke up when he didn’t like something, where Luke would just grow quieter. Michael wasn’t afraid to say “fuck off” to the head of the PTA and he wasn’t afraid to call people out on their shit. He said things that Luke wished he was brave enough to say and he was glad he had Michael to say them for him.

But he loved this side of Michael the most. The one who was reserved just for Luke, who didn’t mind cutting apples for stray deer or kneeling bent over for hours in the sun picking weeds and planting saplings just to make Luke smile. This Michael was soft and caring and he made Luke feel so loved that sometimes he thought he might just burst like a balloon filled with too much air. Luke tried his best to give Michael even a fraction of that feeling back, through little things like getting the back of his head for him when Michael was dying his hair or replacing the strings on his guitar when they started to get worn down. He had never loved someone before he met Michael and he wasn’t sure if he was loving him right, but sometimes late at night or very early in the morning Michael would be caught staring at Luke like he was the answer to every question Michael had ever asked, and Luke thought that maybe he was doing okay at it.

That night, after they’d sent Buttercup and her babies back off into the forest with full bellies, Michael and Luke curled up in the bed that was only slightly bigger than the one they’d first slept in almost three years before, feeling just as safe and loved as they ever had together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is the actual end of this story. Thank you so so so much for reading and/or commenting and/or leaving kudos! I really loved writing this story and I'm glad that some of you really liked it too!  
> You can come visit me at flower-crown-clem on tumblr if you want more pictures of baby animals and flowers and 5sos in your life :)  
> Thank you again!! <3


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